


Something is Wrong with Gravity

by RiddleRose



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Castiel gets space-sick, Crossover, Dean shows love by being grumpy, M/M, Mind Meld, Spock and Jim kill demons with their mind(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleRose/pseuds/RiddleRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will on the Enterprise.  Sam is scared of Uhura, Dean and Scotty bond, and Castiel gets space-sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something is Wrong with Gravity

Dean comes to and the floor is humming.

That can’t be right.

Dean comes to and sits up, wincing a little. Sammy and Cas are lying sprawled next to him on some kind of circular platform with three walls and five circles on the floor. They’re both breathing, so he leaves them alone for a moment. Dean feels… odd. Not bad, but off somehow, as if his body is just getting used to being put together in this formation. He’s a little nauseous, kind of like when Cas zaps him somewhere with no warning. He listens, and sure enough, the floor is humming ever so slightly. He’s not sure he’s hearing it with his ears actually, it might be a slight vibration instead.

Cas sits up with a jerk, eyes wide, “Dean!”

“Cas, you got any idea where we are?”

Cas tries to stand and wobbles a little, “Dean, I feel odd. Something is wrong with gravity.”

“Well that’s new,” says Dean, creaking to his feet with a grunt, “feels fine to me.” He goes over to Sam and prods him with a toe, “Yo Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine.”

Sam groans and shifts a little, “I’m gonna be sick. What was in that burger you got me last night?”

Dean frowns, “Don’t puke Sammy, we don’t know where we are. Bad form to puke in new digs.”

Sam opens his eyes at that and slowly gets to his feet, “Do you feel weird? I feel weird.”

“Cas says there’s something wrong with gravity,” replies Dean. The both look toward Castiel, who has walked slowly to the edge of the platform. There are two steps down, then a console of some kind. Cas steps onto the first stair, moving slowly. As his foot moves a klaxon blares to life somewhere, making all three jump. A female voice says calmly, “Unauthorized access to the transporter pad. Please state your name and intent. You are unauthorized.”

Cas looks to Dean, eyes wide. Dean says, “Jesus lady, pipe down the alarm, would you?” He jerks his head for Sam to crouch behind the console, out of the line of sight of anyone coming into the room, and makes the gesture he and Cas worked out that means go invisible. “I’m not hurting anybody. I want to know where I am and how I got here, and then I will leave. So how about you start talking?”

The alarm continues, and the female voice says, “You are unauthorized. State your name and intent. You are unauthorized.”

Deans eyebrows shoot up, but before he can say anything else the door on the other side of the room hisses open and six men rush in. They’re all wearing what look like uniforms in different colours, one gold, one blue, and four red. Dean grins, “I see the cavalry has arrived. You wanna tell your robot lady to shut those damn alarms off? My head is killing me.”

One of the men in red goes over to the console and flicks a switch, and the alarms immediately go silent. Red lights are still flashing all over the place, so Dean figures they’re still a threat. The man in blue says, “Captain, he is not alone.”

“I’m aware of that Mr. Spock,” says the man in gold. He addresses Dean, “I’m James Kirk, and this is my ship, the USS Enterprise. I am aware that your associate is behind the console, and I would appreciate it if he would step out slowly, with his hands visible.” Sam glances at Dean, then raises his hands and steps into view. He still looks a little sick. “Thank you,” says Kirk, “Identify yourselves and tell me why the hell you’re on my ship.” 

Dean hears a slight rustle and knows that Cas has flitted off to who-knows-where, probably to do some recon. The man in blue – Mr. Spock – raises an eyebrow sharply and says, “Captain, something has just happened.”

“Any idea what that might be?” Kirk says to Dean mildly, face too open, “I don’t like it when people appear on my ship out of the blue, and I don’t like it when things happen on my ship that I don’t know about. So you need to start talking.”

Sam says, “I’m Sam, and that’s my brother Dean. We don’t know how-“

He’s cut off by Castiel appearing practically on top of Dean and knocking him over. “Dean,” he says, eyes wide and too blue, “Dean,” he’s shaking.

“Cas?” Dean grips his arms, “Cas, what happened? Why’d you – what’s wrong?” He’s cold. He’s really, really cold, so cold that Dean can feel tiny ice flakes melting where his hands bunch up the fabric of the trenchcoat, “Where the hell have you been?”

Cas looks around wildly at the six men, who have fanned out and drawn some kind of weapons, “Dean, we’re in space.”

***

Cas takes several hours to recover from his unexpected sojourn into vacuum, so it’s just as well they get put into a holding cell. Dean’s pretty sure they’re being observed, so he just sits on the edge of the bed and watches Sam explore the cell. It’s pretty Spartan, just a bed, a bench along one wall, and a door leading to the weirdest bathroom Dean’s ever seen in his life. 

The security guys relieved them of their weapons, but Dean still has his lockpicks. He hasn’t found anything even resembling a lock though, so that may not matter. They’re not restrained in any way, and there are no guards on the cell door, which is clear and provides a stunning view of a corridor. Nobody has walked by yet, so Dean guesses they’re in a portion of the ship reserved for prisoners. He wonders how big the ship is. 

He’s still processing the fact that they are actually in space (space! Spaceship! Real life spaceship!) and also apparently in the future, when Kirk, Spock, and a new man in blue approach. “Dr. McCoy is going to examine you for any potential biological weapons or diseases,” says Kirk, “since we don’t know where you came from you will remain in quarantine until these tests are performed, so I suggest you cooperate.”

Dr. McCoy opens a panel in the wall outside the cell, unfolds something that looks like an orange hazmat suit, and puts it on. Then he pokes a few buttons to dissolve the forcefield or whatever it is and steps into the cell. He pulls out a… machine of some kind and runs it up and down the air in front of Dean. It hums. He frowns at it and does it again. Then he does the same thing to Sam. “Is something wrong Dr. McCoy?” asks Spock, one eyebrow raised, “if the tricorder is malfunctioning perhaps you should try a new one.”

The doctor’s frown deepens, “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says, “the tricorder’s fine Spock, I tested it yesterday.” He runs the machine over Dean again, then over Cas, who is still lying huddled up on the bed under a pile of blankets, following everything with narrowed eyes, “Well at least you’re normal,” he says to Cas. Sam makes a muffled noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh, and the doctor looks at him sharply, “or maybe not. Jim, they’re all healthy and they’re all human, as far as I can tell,” this time it’s Dean who has to muffle a snort, but nobody seems to notice except Cas, who nudges him under the covers, “but I recommend keeping them confined until we know more. There’s something up with their bones that I’m not sure of. I want to do a full scan on all three of them.”

The captain nods, “Bring ‘em up to sickbay Bones. Spock, go with them. I’m going to check in with Scotty to see if he’s figured out why the transporters beamed them aboard with no warning. Keep me updated.”

“It’s enochian,” says Cas, the first time he’s talked since he blurted out that they were in space.

The doctor looks at him, “What?”

“On their ribs. It’s enochian. I put it there.” He feels like he’s stopped shivering, and sure enough he pushes the covers off and swings his legs off the bed to sit next to Dean.

“Enochian,” says Spock, raising his eyebrow again, “an ancient language purportedly spoken by angels of the old Judeo-Christian mythologies. Fascinating.” Dean wonders idly if he ever raises both eyebrows at the same time. Cas offers no more information, and there is a brief silence.

“Well, Mr. Spock, that was singularly unenlightening,” says Mc Coy, “and it doesn’t explain why it’s grafittied all over their ribs.”

“I put it there,” says Cas again, “to keep them safe from my brothers and sisters.”

“Cas,” says Dean, “we don’t know these people.” It’s a warning, but Cas shakes his head.

“The doctor is a Good Man,” he says quietly, the capital letters clearly audible, “his soul shines as brightly as yours.” 

There’s another little pause where Dean tries his level best not to blush like a girl and Sam rolls his eyes. Sometimes Cas just says these things, like it’s nothing, like Dean doesn’t know his soul is as tarnished as hundred-year-old silver.

“Right,” says McCoy, “I’m revising my opinion on your humanity Mr…”

“Castiel,” says Cas, pressing his leg against Dean’s as if by accident. Dean wonders how Cas became so adept at showing affection, or whether this is something that comes naturally to him. It makes him uncomfortable sometimes, but just now the contact steadies him.

“Castiel,” the doctor says, “I’m flattered, but you’ll forgive me if we continue to confine you and your friends until we know more about you. I’m going to take you all to sick bay and run some tests, then we’ll decide what to do with you.”

***

In sickbay there are a battery of tests that make no sense to Dean and seem to frustrate McCoy. Spock watches the proceedings silently, hands clasped behind his back. “Doctor,” he says eventually, “with their permission, I could initiate a mind-meld with the prisoners to ascertain their benignity.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Deans eyes widen and he swings his legs off the table the doctor has put him on, “mind-meld? No way. No way. No one is getting inside my head but me, and that is final.”

Spock raises an eyebrow, “Very well. “ He turns to Cas.

“Your mind would burn if you tried,” says Cas flatly.

Sam says, “You can read my mind.”

“What? Sammy, no!” 

“Dean, Cas says the doctor’s okay, and they’ve treated us well. I want to be let out of that cell without supervision. We’re on a spaceship, don’t tell me you don’t want to check out the engine. And this is a military ship Dean, if they don’t trust us we’re not going anywhere.”

“Quasi-military,” says Spock, “but correct in the essentials. Starfleet is a diplomatic, exploratory organization built to military standards. Please remain seated. I will initiate a surface meld only, so do not fear that your deepest secrets will be revealed.”

Sam looks apprehensive, but stays still as Spock places the tips of his fingers delicately along the side of his face. Cas grips Dean’s shoulder to stop him from moving forward. Spock and Sam both stiffen simultaneously, hold for a moment, then relax. Spock steps back. “Fascinating,” he murmurs.

“Sammy?” Dean looks at his brother.

“I’m alright,” he says, rubbing his head, “that felt weird. But I think we can trust them. I got a… kind of an echo of his personality. They don’t know how we go here, and they’re… good people, I guess.”

“Fascinating,” says Spock again, “Doctor, they mean no harm to the ship or its crew, but are ready to defend themselves if the need arises. I suggest assigning them a guide and quarters and leaving them to their own devices until we find a way to send them home. Locking them up would be illogical, as Castiel has the ability to transport himself where he wills.”

McCoy’s eyebrows arch toward his hairline, but he says, “Fine. They’ve got a clean bill of health from me, though I’d still like to know how those etchings got on their ribs without killing them. I assume the Captain already knows all this?”

“He is aware,” says Spock. Castiel tilts his head to the side a little, but says nothing.

***

The next few days are boring. Dean explored the ship pretty thoroughly, sometimes with Sam, sometimes with Cas, but always shadowed by a young woman in the shortest dress he’s ever seen in his life, and a massive beehive hairdo. He tried hitting on her the first day out of habit, and she continued her tour without giving any sign she’d heard him. The second time she said, “If you continue harassing me I will render you unconscious. That corridor leads to the recreation rooms, which you may use as long as they are unoccupied. We have a full complement of games, training rooms, obstacle courses, and gym equipment, as well a newly-designed holodeck capable of immersive learning.” Dean figured that was pretty clear, so he gave it up as a lost cause and asked her to show him the engine.

She’s obviously out of her depth as soon as the get to engineering. She’s some kind of communications specialist, or maybe in administration or something, Dean’s not actually sure. Anyway, she doesn’t know anything about engines, so Dean just walks over to the guy he saw in the transporter room and says, “Hey, I’m Dean. Want to show me around?” and the guy’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas.

Two hours in Dean finds the secret still behind the emergency power backup, and two hours after that he’s hanging upside-down from a steel girder with a screwdriver in his teeth and a wrench in his hand helping Scotty make some adjustments to the cooling system. It’s more fun than he’s had in months.

***

Sam explores the ship quickly with Yeoman Rand, who seems to like him. She’s good with computers, and Sam likes computers, so she shows him how to use the one on the ship. He sweet-talks her into letting him see the coding, and she realizes that he’s just going to sit there learning the programming language for the next few days and leaves him to it. Sam spends the next few days at a console, taking brief breaks to eat, sleep, and go to the gym every now and then.

By the third day he’s got a basic grasp of the system, and he starts exploring. He soaks up information about the Enterprise, her crew, and her five-year mission. He watches a video of first contact with Vulcan, the development of the warp drive, the realization that countless undiscovered planets and races of people lay within the reach of humanity. He learns about the beginning of Starfleet, the tension with the Klingons, and the uneasy peace with the Romulan Empire. He also figures out how to hack the ship’s communications, and he listens to bridge chatter like it’s the radio.

On the third day a short black woman with an air of terrifying efficiency marches into his room and says, “Why are you monitoring my frequency?”

Sam gapes at her for a moment, then says, “Uh… what?”

“I’m Lt. Uhura, Communications Officer for Alpha bridge crew. You’ve been monitoring my frequency from this console, and I want to know why.” He’s sitting down, and she’s still only just taller than him, but Sam feels like a little kid caught sniffing glue.

“I was… bored?” 

She eyes him speculatively for a moment, “Right. Well you messed with some of the coding and if I were any less good at my job the malfunction your amateur programming caused could have sparked an interstellar incident. So let’s have an understanding, you and I. I will show you how to monitor my frequency safely, and you will stop trying to hack the ship’s computer. Deal?”

“Um. Uh. Um yes. Sorry, yes. Deal.” Sam watches as she reprograms his console in about ten seconds flat, completely erasing everything he’s done in the past three days. Then she opens up a new program, types a few lines of code and what looks like an authorization key of some kind, and steps back.

“I’ve set you up with a beginner’s programming tutorial,” she says, “and patched you in to the ship’s standard hailing frequency. I’ve also put a jammer on it so that anything you shouldn’t hear will come out in a mixture of Klingon and Old High Vulcan. If you try to bypass it in any way I’ll get an alert, so don’t even try. If you have any questions, send me a message, I put my personal commlink address in your address book.”

Then she smiles, pats his cheek, and breezes out without saying goodbye. Sam lets out a breath and starts to grin. This is going to be fun.

***

Castiel spends two days scouring the ship looking for some explanation of how they got here. He doesn’t like it. The artificial gravity confuses him, and the ship’s motion through space is disturbing. His human vessel has no problem with the constant motion, or the gravity, but he can feel momentum dragging at the edges of his wings. It is exhausting trying to remain anchored to the floor. Once he slips up and starts glowing, his essence leaking out through Jimmy’s pores. Luckily Dean is there. He closes his eyes and puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and it is enough to bring him back into the confines of fragile human skin and bones.

He is afraid to fly after his one disastrous attempt. Not knowing where he was, he had flapped his wings on the transporter pad and ended up in empty warp space, momentum flinging him after the retreating Enterprise like a rag doll. Only his awareness of Dean had allowed him to land so accurately back on the transporter pad, freezing and shaking and shocked. It had taken him hours to repair the damage to Jimmy’s body that just those few moments of exposure had done. And now he is afraid to fly in case he gets the trajectory wrong.

He accompanies Dean on a few of his exploratory missions around the ship, but the different kinds of motion disorient him so much that he has to stop after only a day. Instead he sits in his quarters, closes his eyes, and expands his awareness. Human souls like fireflies light up wherever he looks, moving in paths he knows correspond to corridors and rooms. A few nonhuman souls stand out – a reddish one on the bridge that he knows belongs to Commander Spock, a few greenish ones in the tech department, and one glittering grey one like a tiny marble in engineering. Dean’s blazes in engineering as well, easily recognizable by both its brightness and the mark Castiel left on it, and Castiel takes a moment to warm himself. Dean’s soul recognizes him as it always does, and sends out little welcoming pulses of light and warmth. Castiel wonders if Dean knows his soul does this whenever he’s around. He doubts it.

He leaves Dean reluctantly (Dean’s soul tries to cling, and Castiel has to extricate himself carefully to avoid any damage) and goes looking for Dr. McCoy. He is also easy to locate, blazing nearly as brightly as Dean in the sickbay. Castiel does not try to touch him, but he puts himself nearby and… talks to Dr. McCoy’s soul for a while. Then he withdraws his consciousness and opens his earthly eyes again. Today he will go to sickbay and talk to Dr. McCoy, and tonight he will walk in the dreams of the crew. Too many souls were shaded with grief or trauma, and McCoy will know which ones need the most help. 

***

Gradually they adjust to their new lives aboard the Enterprise. No one has managed to figure out how they got there, and Cas isn’t strong enough to zap them home, so for now they’re stuck. Dean keeps working in Engineering during the day, although he takes time off to spar with Sam every day. Sam and Uhura are quickly becoming friends, even though Sam confesses to being mildly terrified of her. Castiel slowly gets used to the strange not-motion of the ship through space, and takes comfort in the good work he does among the lost and traumatized souls of the crew. He and McCoy strike up a friendship when Dean breaks his arm in a fall and he heals it with a touch of Grace as soon as Dean gets to sickbay.

Dean says, “Thanks Cas,” and rubs his arm where the break isn’t, and Cas leaves his hand there a little longer than necessary so their fingers touch.

On the third week it all goes to hell.

Castiel is sitting in sickbay with his eyes closed when a demon walks in. In one motion he stands, slams the thing against the wall and presses his palm to its forehead. The demon dies screaming in a burst of holy light, and Castiel catches the man he was inhabiting before he falls. “What the HELL did you do!” shouts McCoy, running over and pulling the man from Castiel’s grasp.

“Saved him,” says Castiel without moving, “he is only disoriented.” 

“Bones,” says Jim, sagging in his arms, “Bones it’s fine, he did save me. I was – there was a thing in me. I don’t know…” he clutches his head suddenly, “Ah! Spock, there’s one in Spock, I have to –“

Castiel touches two fingers to his forehead and puts him to sleep, lifting the knowledge of where Spock is from his mind as he does so. He had noticed the bond between Captain and First Officer when he found that their souls bled into each other like pigments in water. It seemed there was a mental bond as well. McCoy is busy running tests on Kirk, so Castiel concentrates briefly, then flaps his wings – just so – and lands neatly beside Dean, who drops a hammer on his foot.

“There is a demon wearing Commander Spock,” he says without preamble, “I have removed one from the Captain already. I thought you would like to be informed.”

“Jesus Cas, a little warning? Wait, Spock? How do you know – never mind. Let’s go.”

Castiel refuses to risk Dean’s life by zapping him all over the ship so they run for the turbolift on foot. Five levels up they pelt out again and crash headlong into Sam. Dean stumbles backwards into Cas, who rights him without effort, but Sam is already talking, “Dean, there are at least three demons on board, I just caught part of a conversation on the ship’s comm system talking to – I think it was a Klingon, but it was Spock and Uhura talking, and it was wrong, Spock’s voice was wrong –“

“Way ahead of you bro,” says Dean, hauling them both along toward their quarters, “Cas smited one of the sons of bitches already, we gotta get the others before they do something drastic. Can you imagine what a bunch of demons could do with control of this ship?”

“We can’t kill them though,” says Sam worriedly, “these people are specially trained, they’re experts. No one can replace them if they kick it. The ship might not survive. We’re gonna have to exorcise them all.”

“I can smite the demon without harm to the vessel,” Says Cas.

“Great. So we gotta set traps or get them into range for Cas. This gets better and better,” Dean growls.

Sam has already fiddled with the replicator in his quarters so they go there and program it for several sacks of raw salt. Dean draws a devil’s trap on the ceiling above the door just in case, and then does the same for his quarters, the adjoining door between him and Cas, and Cas’ main door. 

When they get to the bridge Cas murmurs, “Both helmsmen are demons, as well as Mr. Spock and Lt. Uhura.” Dean has spent the duration of the turbolift ride drawing a devil’s trap there as well, so that the fight will be contained to the bridge. 

Lt. Uhura swivels her chair to look at them as they walk in, and her eyes go black. Dean grins at her and says “Christo,” just to see the thing flinch.

The tiny Russian demon hurls itself forward and Cas catches it in one hand, smiting it in a blaze of light. The boy crumples to the ground. Dean makes for the other helmsman – Sulu? – and gets there just as the guy pulls out a sword. “Seriously dude? A sword? What century are you from?”

“The fifteenth Dean, “ says the demon, “Both I and my meatsuit are quite proficient. It’s why I chose him. A man of honour and chivalry… it was too delicious to resist. He’s shouting at me in Japanese right now you know. Lovely stuff. Shall we begin?”

Dean swears viciously and wishes he had a gun, or at least the knife. Then he has to duck as the demon swings the sword at his head.

Lt. Uhura’s demon smiles sweetly at Sam and walks toward him slowly, “Well well well, Sam Winchester,” she purrs, “Don’t you just look… edible. I know I’m not supposed to damage you, but my lord won’t mind if I have a little fun before I bring you in. Whaddaya say honey, how about it? Want to make a deal?”

“What do you mean fun?” asks Sam, backing up slowly.

“Well,” she says, “how about we just step out here and I can bite my tongue for you? I know you’ve been flirting with this human, I thought you might like it if I gave you an in, so to speak.”

Sam’s back hits the wall, “I don’t drink demon blood anymore bitch.”

“Mmmmm,” she says, pressing up against him, “but you want to, don’t you? And I’ve got you in here, all alone now. No one has to know, not even your brother and his pet angel.”

Sam grins, “You’re right, we are all alone.” He flips her around until she’s against the wall, then tilts her head upward with a finger under her chin. “We’re all alone, and now,” he backs up, hears the turbolift doors open onto the bridge again, “now you’re stuck, bitch.”

Her eyes go wide and she snarls, but he’s done exorcisms so many times it barely takes him a minute to get the words out. Black smoke boils out of Uhura’s mouth and vanishes into Hell. Sam turns in time to see Spock moving in a strangely jerky way toward Cas, who is watching Dean fight Sulu. Sam starts toward them but just then Cas darts in and presses his hand to Sulu’s forehead. There is the usual blaze and then Sulu crumples. Cas sways, his eyes unfocused. “Cas! Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean catches him as his knees buckle. Sam hears the turbolift open again and some swearing he vaguely registers as the doctor’s voice.

“Used too much Grace,” grunts Cas, his voice raspy. He coughs, and it comes out bloody, “Need to rest.” His eyes begin to close.

“Dammit,” Dean swears, “Dammit, dammit, fuck. Sammy, there’s still one –“

They both turn, Dean still supporting the sagging angel. Spock has stopped, and his eyes are black. The captain is standing directly in front of him, eyes closed. Spock coughs once, and a tiny puff of black smoke leaves his lips. He is twitching in tiny involuntary movements. Sam and Dean look at each other and start speaking the exorcism as one voice. The demon’s head whips around, but he can’t seem to move toward them. There are beads of sweat on Kirk’s forehead. Then the demon screams and black smoke pours from his mouth and vanishes into Hell. 

Kirk moves so quickly they don’t even see it, catching Spock and lowering him to the ground, then crouching over him with his fingertips pressed against the Vulcan’s face. Sam tries to move forward but Dr. McCoy barks, “Stop! Don’t touch them. Don’t even think about it. You want to help you can tell me what the hell happened here and exactly why and how you knew what was going on. And how to stop it.”

Sam looks around. Dean has eased Cas down into a boneless sprawl propped up against him. He mutters a constant stream of swears and insults as he tries to check Cas’ breathing and heart rate. Kirk is still bent over Spock, but the Vulcan’s hands have come up to cradle his face, and his eyes look like they’re closed by choice now, rather than unconsciousness. Their foreheads are practically touching. “Well doc,” he says with a grin, “you got one thing right. Hell did just happen here.” It’s going to be a long story.

**Author's Note:**

> Written on a whim for the fantastic @jenesaispourquoi on Tumblr (mutuisanimis here) after we had a conversation about how Dean and Jim would be besties and bitch about their weird alien boyfriends together... Sorry that didn't actually happen here, but I like to think that they laid the foundation for a glorious friendship full of experimentation on the Warp Drive with Scotty and late-night raids on his "secret" still.
> 
> Obviously, I own nothing but my own words.


End file.
